Open and Shut - By David Rosenfelt Page 0,50

for as long as he wants. Fortunately, he stops after a few more well-placed shots, all of which send shooting pains through my body. He leans over and snarls through his mask.

“You'd better learn how to take a warning, asshole.”

I try to respond, but another kick silences me.

“Next time you're dead, asshole. Dead.”

He moves away and out the door, a beautiful, blurry sight if ever I've seen one.

After a few minutes, I stagger to the phone and call the police. I ask for Pete Stanton and tell him what happened. Then I slump down to the floor and wait for the cavalry to arrive.

The first soldier in the door is Edna, who screams when she sees me. She's no beauty early in the morning either, but apparently I look worse. She responds to the crisis terrifically, getting cold rags to apply to my bruises and helping me to the couch.

The place is soon swarming with paramedics and police. The paramedics want to take me to the hospital, but I refuse. Nothing seems to be broken, although my entire body hurts like hell, and I just can't afford to give up the time. Instead they take me into the back office and attend to me, while the police survey the scene.

The paramedics finally finish, and I drag my bruised and bandaged body into the outer office. The only police officer left is Pete, who is on the phone. He signals for me to wait, mouthing that he's on an important call with his office.

I stagger to the couch and sit down, and after a few minutes Pete hangs up. Rather than come talk to me, he makes another call. I'm not paying much attention, until I hear part of it.

“I've got to stop at the cleaners, and I don't know if I'll have time to get the car washed. So figure me for about seven. Right. Goodbye.” I've been waiting for this?

He hangs up the phone and turns to me. “Okay. Talk to me,” he says.

“Talk to you? About what? About some seven-foot-eight, four-hundred-pound monster who beat the shit out of me? I don't think so. I admit it seemed important at the time, but it pales next to the possibility that you won't have time to get your goddamn car washed. That really puts everything into perspective.”

He laughs; this episode doesn't seem to concern him as much as it does me. He tells me that I've got to answer some questions, as well as provide a description of the assailant.

“I didn't see him, Pete. The son of a bitch was wearing a ski mask.”

“There's nothing you can give me? A distinctive voice, maybe?”

I search my recollection, but come up with almost nothing. “He's got big feet.”

“Well now we're getting somewhere.”

I'm really annoyed. “Look, my house has been broken into, I've been threatened, and now I've been beaten up in my office. Any chance you're seeing a pattern, Sherlock?”

“Andy, I see this every day. It happens all the time, and you defend most of the scumbags who do it.”

I shake my head. “This is not supposed to happen to me. I'm a lawyer, for Christ's sake. When I piss people off they're supposed to stand up and object.”

Pete asks me if I see anything missing in the office, or if there seems to be anything that the intruder had gone through.

There is no evidence of that, and I tell him so.

“Hmmmm,” he hmmms.

“What are you hmmming about?”

“Obviously, the intruder was here just to do what he did, beat and threaten you.”

“That makes me feel much better.”

“What time did you get in?”

“Early. Eight-thirty.”

“Are you always the first one in?”

“No. When I'm due in court I sometimes don't come in until the afternoon.”

“Somebody's been watching and following you, Andy. Any idea who it could be?”

“No.”

“Maybe another pimp looking to take over your stable?”

“Kiss my ass.”

“Believe me, right now it's a lot better looking than your face.”

Pete asks me a lot more questions, and I answer them as best I can. Well, maybe not quite that completely, since I neglect to mention the parts about my father and the money and the picture. My shrink and I are going to have a lot to talk about.

Pete heads back to the office, promising to put his best people on the case. He also makes a reference to our next meeting, which is when he will be testifying as a key witness in the Miller case. It'll be my job to attack Pete in cross-examination, which